


Stolen

by misereremolly



Series: Sometimes [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Culmets - Freeform, Ficlet, Fluff, Implied Oral Sex, M/M, Mild Angst, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 18:10:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misereremolly/pseuds/misereremolly
Summary: Sometimes, some days, Hugh’s favorite sweater went missing."Sometimes" Series - wherein Hugh helps Paul cope with his feelings about the war.





	Stolen

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place before S1 E03: Context Is For Kings, not too long after the start of the war.

Sometimes, some days, Hugh’s favorite sweater went missing. 

Sometimes it disappeared from his closet, sometimes from the back of his favorite chair.

It had to be Paul. Of course it was Paul, and they both knew it, really. But every time Hugh tried to ask, Paul would just shrug and mutter something impish about the state of Hugh’s memory, something about remembering to lock the door.

As if it were within the realm of possibility that someone else on board would wander into their quarters, dig into Hugh’s closet, and abscond with a well-worn oversized blue sweater.

Problem was, he’d never actually seen Paul take it. And he’d never seen him wearing it, either, which was even more exasperating. If Paul was going to steal his sweater, then he really should at least have the courtesy to allow Hugh the indulgence of seeing his love wearing his clothes.

But no. Sometimes it would just disappear, and then reappear in his closet a day or two later, washed and primly hanging on a hanger as if it had always been there.

Eventually Hugh gave up on asking, and he lost track of how long they had been playing the game of the purloined sweater. Some months passed, and he’d sort of accepted that there would just be some times when he’d have to change his sartorial plans.

Times like today, when he’d just been sent home early, annoyed and frustrated, after a twelve-hour day in surgery had been cut in half, an entire set of procedures unexpectedly cancelled.

It was really late – or really early, depending on one’s perspective –- just after 0200, and he’d expected to find Paul asleep. But when he walked into their bedroom, the bed was empty, unslept in. 

Hugh unzipped his uniform jacket and tossed it on the bed. He reached into his closet -– 

No sweater. 

He heaved a disappointed sigh and considered getting into his pajamas, but his body wasn’t ready to sleep – he’d expected to be up at least another half a day. He thought about going to the gym, but that didn’t really appeal either.

So he set off in his shirtsleeves to the only other place on the ship where Paul would be at this hour: his lab.

Tilly greeted him from her console as he walked in.

“Doctor Culber! You’re up late.”

“So are you.”

Tilly sighed. “The Yllurian _Lactarius indigo_ we transplanted from Lieutenant Stamets’ old lab took a turn for the worse. He’s in there with them now.” 

Hugh nodded. The precarious state of that particular batch of mushrooms was one of the many things about their assignment to the Discovery that tended to send his partner into a temper.

“Can I go in?” 

“Oh, well,” she hedged. “He didn’t want to be bothered. But…he probably wouldn’t be upset to see you.” She tapped the entry code into her console. “The decontamination field is up, so you’re good to go.”

Hugh nodded his thanks as the door swept open. 

He stepped into the shimmering golden blue of Discovery’s mushroom forest and immediately spied Paul, also golden and blue -– blue in _Hugh’s sweater_ -– kneeling by a patch of sad-looking specimens. 

Paul’s voice rang out. 

“Close the fucking door!” 

Hugh huffed a quiet laugh and moved closer, the door sweeping shut behind him. 

Paul was wrapped up in conversation with his mushrooms. “No, no, _no_ , you do _not_ get to do this,” he gently chided them, hands massaging into the soil. 

Hugh watched him work, the concentration in his face, the little unconscious twitch of his nose. It was hard for his love to find peace these days. Even being in his forest was, at times, an aching reminder of what he had lost when they had been reassigned at the start of the war. 

Hugh silently willed the little fungi to come back to health. 

After a while, Paul sat back on his heels with a satisfied sigh. 

Hugh smiled. “Looks like we were both in surgery tonight.”

Startled, Paul twisted around. “Hugh.” He rose to his feet, wiping his hands on his pants. “You’re done early.”

Hugh raised an eyebrow, pointedly raked his eyes down to the stolen sweater, and then back up. “Mm-hmm,” he drawled.

Paul’s cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink. “Uh—“

“What?” Hugh teased, grinning with vindication. “Aren’t you glad to see me?” 

“Wh—no! I mean, yes, of course—“ 

A flustered Paul was always adorable. A flustered Paul wearing his clothes was, as he had predicted, irresistible.

Hugh closed in on him, taking him by the waist, slipping his hands under the worn hem to stroke bare skin. “Love, whatever this game of yours was all about, I think I just won?”

Interest ignited in blue eyes -- eyes already becomingly offset by the complementary hue of the stolen sweater. A smirk stole warmly across Paul’s face, and dirt-smudged fingers came up to smooth along the contours of Hugh’s upper arms. “Oh really, dear doctor?”

“Yes,” Hugh decided, humming with pleasure at the invitation in Paul’s touch. “And I think I deserve a prize.”

His love’s eyebrows drew upward in confusion. To Hugh’s dismay, he started to remove the sweater. 

“Oh no,” he breathed, quickly putting a stop to that with a hand around Paul’s wrist. “I’m going to need you to leave that on.”

He was rewarded with a knowing look in darkening eyes. 

Paul’s hand suddenly twisted in his grip and linked their fingers, tugging Hugh deeper into the forest. Their feet kicked up swirls of glistening mushroom spores that danced in their wake, and Hugh let himself be drawn into a part of the enclosure where stems and roots had overgrown into a eccentric, beautiful canopy. 

All but breathless now, they eagerly came together for a kiss and Hugh found himself pressed back into a railing, his breath quickening as his love slid down his body, back down onto his knees.

If Paul somehow found comfort during their long days apart by wearing his sweater, then so be it. It hadn’t been on his agenda for the day to actually catch his thief, but as it turned out, he wouldn’t mind continuing this game after all -- especially if the rewards would always be so sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to stop by my Tumblr for more Culmets content -- misereremei.tumblr.com.


End file.
